


The Little Moments

by Imaginatio



Series: The Little Moments [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Bitter ending, Blood, Childhood Memories, Fanart, Flashbacks, Gen, Introspection, Lance (Voltron) Needs a Hug, Mother-Son Relationship, Pre-Keith/Lance (Voltron), Pre-Relationship, Psychological Trauma, Self-Doubt, Violence, but happy ending in the sequil, but wrong conclusions, eventually, no fluff to be found here whatsoever, now with added - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:06:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24074905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imaginatio/pseuds/Imaginatio
Summary: There are certain moments in everybody’s life that have the potential to change everything. They change the way you think, the way you act, the way you function.Like the day Lance stepped on a bug when he was seven.
Series: The Little Moments [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1767868
Kudos: 18





	The Little Moments

There are certain moments in everybody’s life that have the potential to change everything. They change the way you think, the way you act, the way you function. Sometimes they make you feel pure bliss, more often they break your heart. Like a love confession or an unexpected death.

But sometimes they are small. Simple moments that look insignificant to any outsider. Like the day Lance stepped on a bug when he was seven. He had probably stepped on many bugs before then, knowing or unknowingly. But something about the small black beetle and the way it had cracked underneath his red and blue striped sketchers had him choking back tears.

He had just killed an animal. He had killed something. Maybe this little beetle had been on its way to get some beetle food for its little beetle family. Minding its business and unknowingly crawling into its own death. Lance knew that he was being stupid, that this shouldn’t really matter all that much. But for some reason it did.

That evening his mother asked him why he had been so upset during dinner. And at first, he didn’t really know what to say. He was seven years old, nearly a teenager just like his bigger siblings, especially his sisters. And they were always so smart and responsible and strong! He couldn’t tell anybody that he was crying over some bug.

But his mother asked him again. Told him that he could always talk to her about anything. And he knew that. Because she hadn’t laughed at him when he had told her about his crush on Emilia Alvarez from class 2b. Veronica had teased him for a bit, but his mother had only smiled and asked him questions about her.

His Mom had thanked him for telling her about Tommy Ronaldo, who always picked on little Ignazio while walking to school. Rachel had jokingly called him a snitch but quickly reassured him after catching their Mothers disapproving glare.

So why shouldn’t he talk to her about this? He couldn’t think of a good reason not to. So, looking down into his lap, fidgeting with his blanked, he did. She listened to him. At First attentively then amused and then with a sad little twist in the corner of her mouth. Slowly carding her fingers through his brown locks, then cupping his cheek in one hand she said: “Oh mi cielito, that doesn’t sound ridiculous at all. You didn’t do it on purpose, did you?” It wasn’t a real question; she didn’t even wait for him to shake his head. “It was just an accident, there is no reason for you to feel guilty.”

He had looked up while she had spoken but let his gaze drift downwards again as he replied. “I know it was, but the beetle is still dead. To her it doesn’t matter if it was an accident.”

“I know, baby, but you should never feel guilty for doing your best. And there was nothing you could have done differently, right?” With the last word she let her hand drift underneath his chin and gently made him look at her again.

And he understood that, he really did. Because he hadn’t seen the beetle between all the little pebbles. He had even picked it up with a leaf afterwards and had buried it right next to his Abuela’s flower bed.

His mom somehow seemed to know that he had excepted her reasoning and leaned in for a hug. “That’s just the way life works, mi cielito. Beetles live and beetles die. There is no reason for you to feel sad about that, alright?” He took a deep breath, nose buried against her neck before nodding. Quick, but sure.

“Alright.”

* * *

Lance hadn’t thought about that stupid little bug for over ten years. Not until right now. Everything he could hear as the Galra soldiers head exploded not even five feet from him-

(He hadn’t heard him early enough. Had been slacking just like the others always said he did.)

-everything he heard was his Mother’s soothing voice. Saying how it had just been an accident.

Everything he saw as the headless body toppled forward, hitting the floor right next to his feet, was the sad little twist in her mouth as she had told him not to feel guilty. There was nothing he could have done differently.

Everything he smelled as he absently smudged away the blood on his visor, was her sweet rose perfume as she had hugged him goodnight. Telling him, that that was just the way life worked.

He gave himself three seconds to take a deep breath. To hold back the misty feeling in the corner of his eyes that reminded him too much of the strong breeze on the beach. A house surrounded by green grass and flower beds. He thought about all the times since, when he had sidestepped any little bug or tiny ant or crawling creature he saw on the sidewalk. He thought about all the Galra he had killed by freezing their ships with Blue. By blowing them up in the middle of deep empty space. By shooting them point blank without hesitation. Without regret.

In those three seconds he nearly broke down over this sudden, heart-breaking realisation.

By the fourth all of that was just gone. Because all those heavy feelings didn’t really matter, did they? He won’t stop doing this. He won’t suddenly try to convince enemy soldiers to come to his side of the war. It wouldn’t work. Because even though they were not bugs, they behaved like ants. Never thinking outside their hive minds. Never hesitating either before shooting at him.

Because it was just the way his mother had said all those years ago. They live and they die. No reason to feel sad about it.

With that last thought he shouldered his gun. Looking up from the now motionless body he checked for more soldiers coming out of the room this one had. There was nobody inside, he moved on. When he ran into another group three bends later, he didn’t hesitate. He didn’t flinch. He didn’t feel anything as he looked down at the bodies, checking if they were all the way dead. Shooting one of them again in passing for good measure. Nothing had changed.

Except it had. He was now conscious of what exactly he was doing. He was killing. He was ending lives and he didn’t feel guilty about it.

Everything was just alright.

**Author's Note:**

> A little something that wouldn't let me think about anything else until I finally wrote it down. I do have a massive continuation of this in my head (and partially written down) but it probably won't see the light of day anytime soon. (I'd love for this broken little boy to get his head together for real, but writing is just so hard!)
> 
> The art at the beginning is mine, here is a link in case it's not working properly. https://bit.ly/3gFopr9
> 
> Also I am not a native speaker and I do not have a beta, so if you found any mistakes don't be shy to point them out to me, I'd be grateful!
> 
> Finally, thank you so much for reading, for maybe leaving Kudos or even writing a comment. Have a lovely day!


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